


The one where the Senate Interferes (and the Clones really don't like people coming after their Jedi)

by Pepperonian



Series: Tales from the 473rd [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Battle, Clone Rights, Clones, Documentary style, Force Empathy, Gen, Jedi, Politics, Slight Cliff-hanger, The Clone Wars - Freeform, The Force, The senate is a bunch of interfering nerf-herders, War, blaster wounds, but totally isn't, public ignorance, slight AU, this was meant to be fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepperonian/pseuds/Pepperonian
Summary: A narrator speaks over the tape.The Grand Army of the Republic. No longer does it have to be filled from the general population. Due, in large part, to the sacrifice and courage of the clones.A film team was invited to view the inner workings of the 473rd Legion of the Grand Army of the Republic to showcase exactly who the protectors of our liberty and ideals are.***The 473rd is observed by a documentary film crew. Things go downhill from there.
Relationships: CC-4565 | Casey & Briallen Tally, CC-4565 | Casey & Kayvin Avis, Kayvin Avis & Briallen Tally
Series: Tales from the 473rd [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776703
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	The one where the Senate Interferes (and the Clones really don't like people coming after their Jedi)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How To Scrap Battledroids](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424678) by [meridianpony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianpony/pseuds/meridianpony). 



> Woah this ended up way more angsty and political then I thought it was going to be. Honestly, it's working title was 'Cute Documentary Style One-Shot.' 
> 
> Honestly I was loosely inspired by meridianpony's 'How to Scrap Battledroids' which is fantastic and so, so funny. 
> 
> But this is not funny. At least, I don't think its very funny. 
> 
> Also, sorry about the super spaced out formatting- I'm not entirely sure what happened there!
> 
> Anyway, this is where it's particularly AU. Order 66 canonically happened two years earlier than this story is set, but in this universe, it hasn't happened yet. It doesn't really impact the story too much... but it will in later installments.

**_A transcript for the unreleased documentary ‘The Clone War.’ Clone Rights and Resettlement Bill index 2a._ **

The camera opens on a blank, white wall, a chair, and a table. A figure, seemingly slightly too big for the space, shuffles in.

He’s a clone, in armour painted dark green. His helmet is on, a blue stripe under one side of the visor, and a purple stripe under the other. He takes it off.

The clone looks awkward arranging himself in the chair. At last, he looks uneasily at the camera and asks, “are we good?”

[The screen fades to black. Out of the darkness, words appear. ‘The’ and “War’ slowly being pushed apart by the word, ‘Clone.’]

***

[The camera is following a pair of clones in dark-green striped armour down the hall of what looks to be a republic battle cruiser.

The caption reads: **Republic Cruiser Integral, unspecified date and location.** ]

“I wonder what they’re serving,” one says.

“Stop thinking with your stomach, Hoop,” the second clone says. He’s silent for a moment, before saying, “it’s reconstituted rations.”

The trooper, Hoop, groans.

“What did you expect?” The second clone says, defensively, “it’s the mess.”

[The camera cuts to clones, the same two, at an interview table. They have their helmets off, revealing near-identical features.]

[A caption identifies the clone on the right, with a scrubby beard, as **CT- 0599 aka ‘Link.’** The other is **CT- 1221 aka ‘Hooper.’** ]

They are slightly older troopers, though you could only tell by the slightly wearier look in their eyes, and the nasty scars both bare. Hooper has a pair of thin white lines lying across one cheek bone, Link a scar that travels through his lip, and another just by his hairline.

“Yeah,” Hooper is saying, “we’ve been in commission what,” he looks at Link, “five years now?”

“I’d say that’s about right,” Link says, grinning.

"How many droids do you reckon you’ve destroyed?" The interviewer asks, out of the shot.

Link and Hooper both start laughing. “We don’t keep count like the shinies do,” Link says, his grin inching into a smirk.

“Nah,” Hooper adds, “I can’t remember. In the thousands by now?”

"Could you tell us, for the viewers, if thousands of droids over five years is a lot?"

“Well,” Link says, “that depends on who’s the on doing the scrapping.”

[The camera cuts to another clone. He’s clean-shaven, his hair regulation-short. He has no identifying features, save a scar that curls around his right ear and down his neck slightly. The interviewer appears to have asked him the same question.]

“You mean, he clarifies, “for a clone? Sure. That’s a lot. Our men are the best of the best.”

The interviewer clarifies, "what about for a Jedi?"

His expression is neutral, composed. The consummate leader.

[At last, an identifying caption floats into place on the screen. **CC-4565 aka ‘Casey.’** ]

“Our Jedi leaders are highly capable and excellent leaders,” he says.

[You’d have to be in the room to really get the full effect of what Casey really meant.]

_I’m not talking to you about my Jedi. Don’t even try._

[The screen cuts back to Hooper and Link.]

Hooper is laughing, “I’ll just say this,” he says. “I wouldn’t want The General or the Commander on the seppie’s team.”

***

The screen cuts to a view of the Mess hall. It is populated with clones. Eating, talking, laughing. They all have their helmets off. There’s a energetic, friendly buzz. The viewer can see just how varied identical faces can be.

A narrator speaks over the tape.

_The Grand Army of the Republic. No longer does it have to be filled from the general population. Due, in large part, to the sacrifice and courage of the clones._

_A film team was invited to view the inner workings of the 473 rd Legion of the Grand Army of the Republic to showcase exactly who the protectors of our liberty and ideals are._

[The camera cuts to black and opens on another interview.]

“Well,” says the clone, “you’ve got your squad, led by a sergeant, then four squads are a platoon, and they’ve got a lieutenant and then you’ve got four platoons in a company. They’re led by a captain.”

There’s a pause before the clone continues.

“That’s me,” he adds.

[He is listed as **CT-8905 aka ‘Hiro.’** ]

“I lead [blank] company,” he said, and it’s not without pride. “Good men. The best.” He smirks, “I’m trying to get the Commander to admit it, but he won’t. Says it’s bad for morale, but you wanna know what I think?”

He leans forwards, conspiratorially, “I think the other captains won’t let him.” He grins. Someone behind the camera laughs uproariously.

[offscreen] “Nice try, Hiro!”

[The camera cuts to another scene. We pan down a line of troopers taking shots at distance. The targets? B1 Battle droid heads mounted on sticks. A blaster bolt rattles into one. The only flashes of colour on the screen are the bolts and the green of the clones’ armour. The planet has been scorched.]

**Unknown location, Outer Rim Front.**

“Who got that?” Hiro asks the men; we assume his company.

One of them snorts “Marker.”

There is a chorus of good-natured groaning from the assembled clones.

“Of course,” someone choruses.

Hiro has his helmet on, but says, “Marker can’t be doing all the work for you gentlemen, that one doesn’t count.”

There’s more grumbling, and the blaster fire resumes.

[The Camera cuts to another interview, held outside this time. A clone trooper in standard white armour is leaning against the walls of a makeshift barracks.

 **ARC Trooper, CT- 6904 aka ‘Marker.’** ]

“Yeah,” he says, “they call me Marker ‘cause I hit the mark.” He grins easily, open faced and cheerful. “It’s a bad joke he says,” sounding almost embarrassed.

"You’re an ARC trooper. What does that mean?" The interviewer asks

Marker nods, slowly, “well, it stands for Advanced Recon Commando,” another smile, sheepish this time, “it means I’m good at killing droids.”

Out of frame someone yells something that makes him duck his head, embarrassed. “Or, if you like, it makes me a bit of a target.”

"For the droids? Or your brothers?"

Marker laughs out loud, “oh, both, but mostly the droids.”

"Why?"

The smile hasn’t quite slipped his face, but he looks more thoughtful. “It’s a common tactic for all militaries, I think. You take out the bigger threats, higher ranking officers. Seppies see us as good kills. Like killing a commander.”

"Or a Jedi?"

Marker’s face hardens completely. “We’d never let that happen.”

"But they’d let it happen to you?"

“If you think that,” Marker says, “you clearly don’t know many Jedi. Or many clones. That’s not how we think.”

***

[we see more scenes of life amongst the 473rd. Commander Casey is seen at a blurred over holo-table, gesturing in precise movements. The captains surrounding him nod at different points. Other scenes include clones running training sims on the _Integral,_ and a group of clones playing a hand of cards. Voice over narrates.]

_The 473 rd serves on the highly dangerous Outer Rim front. They run missions ranging from rescues to reinforcements, to supply runs, to all-out sieges, under the command of Commander Casey and Jedi General Kayvin Avis. Despite the disparity between their commanders and them, our clone army seems to have nothing but the highest respect for their leaders._

[The montage of the clones’ lives continue, now narrated by the clones themselves]

“For fun?” One asks, “I’m not too sure there’s a lot fun to be had out here.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” another one says. He has a heavy drawl to his voice. “Leave isn’t much fun in the Outer Rim.”

“Well,” one, younger sounding clone says, “we don’t get a lot of down time to start with. And we work pretty hard. I think a lot of the boys either train, eat or sleep.”

We now see a younger looking trooper, his armour has no defining characteristics, but does have the legionary standard green on the shoulders.

**CT-5404 aka ‘Trip’**

He smiles, “we might play a game of cards, every so often hang out in the mess. You’ve been here for a while now.” He shrugs. “There’s not a lot to do on a ship.”

[camera cuts back to the group of troopers at the table playing cards, **CT-0599 aka ‘Link’** and **CT-1221 aka ‘Hooper’** sit with **CT-8905 aka ‘Hiro’** and another trooper, **CT-3783 aka ‘Watts’** ]

“This is fun,” Hooper says, defensively.

"What do you think the Jedi do for fun?" The interviewer asks.

Immediately the clones loose their grins, easy or not.

Hiro stands.

“You know what boys,” I think I’m going to turn in.”

Watts is openly glaring at the camera.

“Good plan there, Cap,” Hooper adds.

***

Casey’s having a bad enough day without having to deal with those documentary clowns. It was _just his luck_ that the senate had saddled the 473rd with them. Why couldn't they have gone with Skywalker? _He_ certainly wasn't camera shy.

Link looks almost regretful to have brought the issue up. “I didn’t want to disturb you, Commander,” he says. (He’s right, they’ve got one last assignment coming up before they’re being cycled back to Coruscant for a week’s worth of leave. They’ve haven’t been back since Briallen had joined them. Casey is exhausted.)

(It had been two years. Two years. Casey felt _old_ )

“It’s alright, Link,” Casey says, anger trumping exhaustion. “They know what their mission parameters are, and they’ll know full well they’re in breach of them. I’ll have a word. Dismissed.”

Link saluted warily before heading out the door. Idly, Case wondered if he was getting rapidly more ill-tempered as he aged, or if it was just stress.

_Those kriffing reporters._

It was definitely stress.

Some of the troops had been pleased the documentary team was joining them. Everyone knew about the Bill before the senate. Everyone wanted it to pass. Most people thought that the documentary was a good idea, that it would help the public see past their eerily identical faces to the individuals beneath.

Case didn’t buy it. People in the senate didn’t know them, and didn’t really care about them. They only cared about reelection. There was no point in convincing people like that that the clones had worth. Case knew they had worth. The Jedi knew they had worth. And what was worse, the senate acted like they had to _prove_ something. As if hundreds of thousands of dead brothers wasn’t enough to earn their respect.

So, they’d sent the cameras and told them all to be on their best behaviour.

Maybe Case was old and cranky, or maybe he was just over it.

And to make matters worse-

His tirade of thoughts was interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Enter,” he said, and felt immediately guilty when it slid open to reveal Bria.

“Commander Tally,” he said, getting to his feet and trying to still his raging thoughts. “Sorry about that, Sir.”

Bria smiled. It came far easier for the apprentice than for her master, but after so long Case could see traces of Avis in her, how her smile was a little slower than it used to be, quirking slightly at the corners before meeting in the middle. It gave him a nice feeling of familiarity. It was the kind that came with watching someone grow up.

“Don’t worry about it, Case,” she said. Bria used his nickname all the time, if she could get away with it. Something else she’d inherited from Avis. “I was basically asking for a distraction tonight.”

Casey frowned at her, “aren’t you meant to be practicing…” he trailed off. He knew, intellectually, what Avis was trying to teach her, but he didn’t know what it was in words.

“Practicing excluding unnecessary emotion from external presences to hone my focus in the Force?” Bria said, “yes,” she grinned, “but I got distracted.”

That was exactly the point, Case knew, but Bria knew that too, and she was here anyway.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. “Seeing as I’ve failed at keeping myself focused in the Force, again.”

“The documentary crew,” Case admitted. “They’ve been asking questions about you.”

Every expression of emotion was mild in Jedi, usually. So ‘mild surprise’ on Bria actually translated as ‘a little bit shocked.’ “Me? I'm a padawan. They shouldn't even know my name.”

“No,” Case amended, “about you and the General. They want to know about Jedi.”

Briallen’s smile disappeared. “They’re here to persuade the public to support the clone-rights bill,” she said. “Why do they want to know about us? This is about the brothers.”

“I know,” Casey said, the words felt heavy in his mouth. He hadn't trusted the reporters. But his brother's had. In the end, he hadn't really wanted to be proven right.

Bria looked concerned. And young. Even when she was wrinkled, Case was sure she’d seem young to him. Slightly _other,_ sure, but most Jedi were like that, except the ones that enjoyed the soldiering a little to much. _Skywalker,_ he thought to himself. He didn’t know how they were going to go back to peace when it finally came.

He shook himself. Bria shouldn’t have to be concerned about this. She was there only because he hadn’t been able to contain himself. “I’ll sort it, Sir,” he said.

“You don’t want me to ask Kayvin?” She said, “or you don’t want me to talk with them?”

“All due respect, Sir,” he said, “I think that’s exactly what _they_ want. They get to deal with me instead.”

***

[Excerpt from Cheiru Fas’ holo-diary, taken during the filming of his unreleased documentary, The Clone War.]

"Commander Casey came to see us today. Kept going on about how we had a mission brief we needed to stick to, and a duty to the republic. That unit is super strung out. I’m not sure if defective clones exist (maybe we should look into that) but he sure seems like it.

Told us to stop asking the clones about the Jedi. Said it wasn’t a part of ‘mission parameters.’ I say it is. The Jedi are at the forefront of this war, and obviously relevant to any documentary about the war. The public deserve the truth. As a film maker, I feel I have a higher mandate to them to the senate or the bottle-born freaks they’ve got us trailing around after.

I haven’t seen General Avis _once_ on board. Maybe he doesn’t even exist. (Note to self: Senate Conspiracy?). He’s meant to have one of those student Jedi as well. Haven’t seen them around either."

[the holo flickers as Fas looks for his notes]

"Got it. Commander Tally. He shrugs. I don’t even know what he looks like.

Casey can get kriffed. So can the Jedi council. No documentary about the clones is going to interest the public. But their super-secret peace-keeping service? _That’s_ filmmaking.

We’re going out on a patrol with them tomorrow. Won’t be very interesting, but maybe we can find someway to film one of the Jedi…"

***

[The camera’s shaky and in almost pitch black. We see flashes of white armour in the dim light of the troop carrier. We catch a glimpse of the interviewer, a naturally born human, hair artfully tousled. He’s wearing a flight suit, clearly marked as an observer.]

“You’re aware of the protocol, sir?” Hiro is impressing to whoever sits behind the camera. “This is a routine op, but you do what we say, when we say it, no questions asked.”

“Of course, Captain,” the interviewer responds, clearly on behalf of both of them.

[Across the screen, we see another caption.]

**Standard Recon Operation**

**Date… Classified**

**Location… Classified**

Visible with his visor and distinctively stripped helmet is Commander Casey. His helmet is expressionless, but he’s watching closely.

“So,” the interviewer asks, “Commander Casey, do you usually join these missions?”

“That’s classified,” Casey says bluntly.

The interviewer starts to say something. The mic catches the very beginning of it- the intake of breath when a voice comes on over the comm. _“Setting down in [blank] sector. See you soon, Commander.”_

Casey’s troopers have the good sense to be hanging on to the rails as the transport sets down uneasily. The blast doors rattle open and the clones march out into the thin watery sunlight.

It’s a nice planet. Green, wooded. The clones seem almost incongruous with their surroundings, despite the deep green striping their slightly battered armour. It doesn’t look like anything bad should happen there.

“So where are we, Captain?” The interviewer is asking Hiro, having gathered that Casey is a lost cause. “What’s the point of this kind of mission?”

“Well,” Hiro is saying, after ordering his men to split along a distance for their careful approach of the treeline, “we’re the preliminary recon. Our job is to ascertain the terrain, note the strengths and weaknesses, and report any signs of hostile activity.”

“Do you think we’ll see any of that here?” The interviewer sounds almost excited.

“Hopefully not,” Hiro says. “Seems pretty routine. No prior history of Separatists on this world. We’ve got a couple of other teams scouting in this region. If there was going to be preliminary resistance,” he nodded at the heavily wooded treeline in the distance, “we’ll see them there.”

It doesn’t seem like a place the war could touch, really. The silence is complete and peaceful, broken only by the occasional buzz of contact through the coms of a trooper’s helmet.

One officer, a sergeant, responds to a com with “yes, General.”

The interviewer is on him within a second. Commander Casey, in the distance and to the right of the screen, starts towards them before stopping abruptly, one hand to his com.

“Sergeant, isn’t it?” the interviewer asks, “is the General planetside? Do you usually work directly alongside the Jedi?”

“Uh-” the trooper says.

He doesn’t finish.

Commander Casey yells, “enemy contact [blank] sector!”

The camera swivels suddenly as an explosion rattles the ground and cracks through the still air.

Very distinctly, the mic picks up the sound of distant shouting and blaster fire.

The mic is close enough to hear the General’s voice come in over the com of the Sergeant. “Third Platoon, move to reinforce Commander Tally.”

Casey is already moving across the fields. All the men are. The camera can barely keep up with them as they run through the tall, green grass. The camera man swears when he realises it’s still wet with dew.

“Hurry up, for kriff’s sake,” the interviewer is yelling over his shoulder. “This could be something good.”

The clones they are with do not seem to realise that they are still filming. Their focus is on the combat ahead.

[the footage cuts out]

[it resumes]

It is chaos. Where there had been once clear air, now it is filled with smoke.

It is lit by the exchange of red and blue blaster bolts and highlighted by the yells and screams of the combatants.

Casey yells into his com, “who has eyes on the Commander?”

_“I’ve got her in the treeline, Sir!”_ comes in over Casey’s coms. Somehow the mic is close enough to record it.

“How many sabers do you see, trooper?” Casey demands. He’s got one hand on the side of his helmet, like he’s trying to make the com work better, and the other has a blaster in it. He’s a good shot. The shapes in the smoke he shoots all creak and die; battledroids.

Separatists.

_“She’s got both of them out, sir,”_ the unknown trooper replies and Casey swears. His hand drops away from the mic, and he picks the other blaster out of its holster.

“We’ve got it under control here, Commander,” Hiro yells, pressing briefly back to back with his brother and comrade as they shoot in tandem. “They’re pressing back towards the treeline. They’ve got organics out here, too sir. Probably a recon cell with limited resources.”

Casey growls something like, “they want her alone.”

Hiro seems to agree.

“Try take one of the organics alive, Captain,” Casey says, “and try and get the General back on coms.”

“What’s going on?” The interviewer is asking, “who’s this ‘Commander?’”

“Someone get rid of him!” Casey orders, and he shoulders his way through what’s left of the fighting between the droids and his brothers.

The small separatist force must have had the element of surprise on their side to be confident enough to attack, because they were vastly outnumbered. The fighting in the field had nearly dried up.

“Follow him,” the interviewer ordered the cameraman. “I want to know what’s going on!”

The camera stubbornly follows the clone commander across the battlefield, narrowly avoiding a B1 before and ARC jumps on it. The clone has lost his blaster, but he’s got a vibro blade in one hand, and cuts the droid off at the joints.

It’s shaky, poor footage. It’s every war time documentary ever made, and the viewer has to endure the pounding movements of the camera man as he hauls himself into the treeline, and then stops abruptly, as the interviewer comes to a screeching halt.

“Look,” the interviewer hisses, “look at them.”

The Jedi is young. No older than seventeen. Human, female, and wielding two lightsabers. One blazes brightest blue. The other is darker, richer, indigo.

She’s bleeding. Badly. And surrounded. It’s too far to make out her features, but the beaded braid is easy to identify.

A padawan.

Casey has nearly reached her.

He doesn’t notice the organic- a human, it seems, behind him, blaster raised. Somehow, the Jedi does.

The Jedi girl yells, “no!” And shoves one hand, still wrapped around the hilt of her saber, towards the assailant.

Perhaps someone older, more experienced, would have been able to use the Force, and keep up with the blaster fire directed at her. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so badly injured already, she would have been able to use the Force with less concentration.

As it was, it was a bad situation.

The organic that had been about to fire on Casey hits a tree trunk behind him with the kind of sickening crack that made you remember that humans were just bags of bone and meat.

Casey yells out, blasters firing.

It was too late.

The girl gasped as the bolt went through her abdomen. Her lightsabers fell from her hands as she collapsed, gasping.

Seemingly satisfied with the death of a Jedi, the fighting trailed away as the separatist humans melted away into the background.

Casey was already at her side, kneeling over her. _“Commander Tally’s been hit,”_ he’s saying, deceptively calm into the comm, “ _immediate medical evac. This is not a drill. Jedi down.”_

_“Get closer,”_ the interviewer hisses, “this is gold.”

“Commander, Sir,” the mic manages to pick up Casey saying. “Hold on, Sir. Help is coming.”

The girl’s chest is rising and falling to fast. There’s blood at her mouth. She chokes on it as she tries to speak.

“’sall right, Case…” she slurs, and tries to smile, “tell Kay-”

She gasps and her eyes roll back.

Now her breath isn’t coming at all.

Casey has one gloved hand uselessly on her abdomen. The white of his armour is splattered with blood.

“Commander,” he says, “Sir.” He repeats that over and over, until he changes tack. “ _Kriff, Briallen,_ ” he says, harshly, “hold on, Sir.”

Then he’s on the coms. Someone has responded.

The camera jerks suddenly as a force of clones rush in past the two observers.

“Commander!” One clone, a medic, it seems, shouts. It is unknown to which he is referring.

Casey is clinical in his response. “Gut wound,” Casey says, “but she was hit before I got here. I’m not sure where. I just saw the blood.”

“Move back, Sir,” the medic says, and he’s being joined by another medic, and another, until there is a small army of them around their Jedi. “There’s an evac airborne,” one says. “They’ll be here in a matter of minutes.”

Casey still has his helmet on, but he sounds shaky and pale when he says, “she might not have that time.”

None of his brothers say a word.

Eventually, Casey asks, “where is the General? Does he know?”

[The response is not recorded]

The clearing fills with the sound of a troop-carrier hovering overhead. It begins its slow descent into the tiny clearing. There seems to be barely enough space for it to land.

The camera barely catches a glimpse of Jedi in standard tan robes dropping into the clearing whilst the carrier was still above the treeline. He kneels quietly at his apprentice’s head, his fingers splaying across her temples. It takes only a moment before he nods at the medics.

“She is alive,” he says, “there is but a thread of her life left.”

They are wrapping her middle in thick, white bandages. Bacta bandages. They are not equipped to deal with such massive internal injuries.

“Let’s get her on the stretcher,” one of the medics instructs as soon as one is brought from the landed transport.

The General does it with the Force, lifting her gently, without jostling her.

The transport pulls away before anyone else can get on board, hauling quickly for atmo, where the medical bay of _Integral_ orbits, waiting. It is not the only carrier, of course, heading quickly for medical evac. The fighting in the fields had been one-sided, but no engagement was easy. Clones and Jedi both fell today.

It does not take long for the interviewer to approach Casey, where he stands, head bowed in conversation with the Jedi General.

“Commander,” the interviewer is demanding to know, “what was the Jedi saying to you before.”

Casey’s head jerks backwards. He is expressionless in his helmet, but there is no question: he is horrified.

The Jedi, for someone who’s apprentice is near death, seems unphased.

“Mr. Fas,” he says calmly, “that is quite inappropriate.”

Fas waves away the concerns, “what about you General? That was your apprentice, correct? You don’t seem too bothered.”

The Jedi’s expression is still. It hasn’t changed an iota. At least, not in the way that Fas can see.

[Several of the clone troopers who are closer to them, have taken a step back, out of frame]

“This seems to be outside your purview, Mr Fas,” General Kayvin Avis says quietly. “I suggest you turn off your recording.”

Fas bristles. “I’m a documentarian!” He cries, indignant. “People deserve the truth, the reality. I will give it to them.”

Casey steps towards them. His hands are balled up into fists.

“There is truth in what you saw today,” Avis admits, “but it is a double bladed sword. When _you_ wield it, I sense you will do more harm than good.”

Fas starts to sputter. Avis steps forwards.

“Your _truth_ is over, Mr. Fas,” he says.

The wave of his hand is the last thing the camera ever records.

***

_HoloEntertainmentNews report extract:_

It has been announced today that the release of the Senate-Ordered War Documentary has been cancelled at the request of the Jedi High Council. Inside sources say that all footage has been ordered destroyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much, as always, for reading this. When I got my first few Kudos and Comments I nearly died of excitement. Be sure to check out 'How to Scrap Battledroids' if you're a fan of Clone/Jedi brotherhood! I loved it (and, to be honest, everything of meridianpony's I've read)


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